


Stuck in Traffic

by notenoughred



Category: MS Paint Adventures, Problem Sleuth (Webcomic)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, hmmmm, moirail stuff, or is redrom stuff, you can't tell me that dame and broad are anything different okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 12:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14592603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notenoughred/pseuds/notenoughred
Summary: Dame's dates not here and she's upset, but luckily she has a Broad here before anything can get broken.





	Stuck in Traffic

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda used this shit to use for that rp audition I tried to join tbh.  
> I was just bored in class and finished my work so I decided to lengthen and edit it and crap.

Your name is Hysterical Dame, and by GPI you are going to  _lose it_  if Sleuth doesn’t get here soon.

 

Why was he such a  _problem?_

   
 

You called him a few times already, and by a few, you mean so many that your phone had used its battery power within half an hour, and you had to go to Broad's room for a charger. And that’s where you were now, sitting on that long, white bed of hers (long to accommodate for her height, you presume, though the blanket was still far too short), phone hastily hooked into the fraying charger next to you, while muffled screams tried with  _effort_  to sound through its pillowy barrier.   
He was probably busy with some more sleuthing, or he’d been so much of a sap that he’d left his phone on silent../again/, or it..maybe, had something to do with the Crew again. The latter possibility made your stomach sink, a twinge of worry rising up, then hiding itself with a mask of anger.  
  
No.  
  
**_No._**  
  
He was fine, and he was just  _fucking_ with you and TRYING to ball you up, wasn't he? Just so you could get all worried and you'd give him one of your dumb slaps followed by a kiss again. Ugh. Why was he so late? Where was he? The low drum of traffic tried to answer you, slow and noisy and beeping, but you didn't take notice of it. You didn't think traffic could speak, anyway.   
  
You just weren’t taking his antics well tonight. If a man says they’ll be here by eight, and you’d been sitting here until ten-thirty, then they ain’t doing a very good job at keeping a dame calm, and they ain’t bein’ very good at bein’ a _good **date**_. Why wasn’t he here already? You’d been waiting for over an hour and you’re going to fli-

   
"I-it's, you're okay Dame.."

Your thought was cut off by a few reassuring words, and a thin, somewhat tremulous hand placed itself on your back. You let out a few more screams before pulling the pillow down, trying not to sniffle too obviously, not wanting to seem too hurt by that  _ass_ , or make yourself ugly by horribly loud sniffs that reminded you of a sound a pig might make.  
Broad took the pillow carefully, it limping unappreciatively on her lap. It was a make-up smudged mess, mascara and lipstick marks streaking it like a clown, and your cheeks managed to flush, your shoulder's rising up, embarrassed. Broad only stared at it nervously with a softly-worded reply of “I can wash it later.”

You breathe out a breath that you didn't know you were holding and fold your arms, pouting. She moved closer, _knowing_ , and lets you lean against her arm. Broad was comforting; she was tall and kind, your curves fit neatly into the sharp angles that made  _up_ for all the bones, and while you leaned there, she let her fingers slowly fiddle your own hair into loose curls and wipe at your running makeup. An excuse for touch.  
Slowly, you let your hysteria settle down a little, and your shoulders managed to finally relax. 

You still haven't forgiven him though. 

 

   
Broad feels a little worried herself about your breakdown, but she's your best friend; she  _knows_ how you work. And she knew asking you when you were still hysterical wouldn't have anything but make your emotions more volatile.  
So she waits another minute, presses a quiet kiss on the top of your head, and -   
  
"What...., what happened?"  
 

You breathe in a deep breath, readying yourself for a rant.   
 

“It's Sleuth." Your fists scrunch.   
  
'Of course', Broad's nod seemed to say.

"Th’sap was supposed t’pick me up an hour and  _a half_  ago, but he still ain’t  **here**  broad. Got a new dress n everythin’ that’s just getting wasted by not bein’ looked at!!   
Why didn’t he call me!  
I’m not the type of dame that just likes waiting for things t’happen!!! It’s just so...agghhhh."  
  
"He,  he shouldn't do that to you Dame. Honestly, that's terribly ru-"

".. _unreliable_  , even though i getcha, he tries. (Mhm) Tries his hardest for th’one’s he cares about too. (Oh.) He’s real sweet like that, and he’s got a cute face, and his cheesy jokes are still kinda funn...ugh, wait, no, i’m angry at him! (Dame it's o-) I shouldn’t be sayin’ how /cute/ he is! I just want him t’get here and say how sorry he is for makin’ me wait so long before i give him a slap!"  
  
Broad had to wait until Dame had stopped to breathe before she could say her part.  
  
"At..least you're not stuck there anymore. The Dollhouse. Gosh, that Kingpin was awful to look at." There was a brief feeling of victory having said the entire thing. 

"Yeah. YEAH! You're RIGHT!"  
  
"It's ju-"  
  
"We got rent now, yeah. So that’s somethin’ i’m not missin’ from the Dollhouse, but weird puzzle shit t’just get out of my room? A creepy mobster lookin' through your window? You know that ain’t ideal, even if it was pretty fun t’lipstick my own door down."  
  
She still would have preferred a strapping young fella to help her out instead of hanging up. But she had Broad. The WHOLE time. And she was a TOTAL darb, not just cute and pretty. She wrapped an arm around her, giving her a well-appreciated hug.   
  
The shape she had been hugging started to shiver, then shake, and then she heard the choked sound of the beginning of a cry.   
Oh  _no!_

"Oh, what? BROAD? Agh, look i’m sorry about th’pillow, I’ll clean it, don’t cry about that! It’s..not what you’re crying about? You’re glad we’re friends?"  
  
Broad answered in a too-quiet whisper and a nod.  
  
"Well, hey! It’s okay honey! Course we’re friends! You did more than me than a lotta people can say, couldn’t have asked for a better friend t’HAVE.Still pissed off he’s taking so long though..."  
They kept their arms around one another, Dame doing the comforting this time. She wouldn't let go even IF Sleuth walked through that door now.   
  
  
Eventually, Broad gets a text. From Pickle? Figures, he was her boyfriend. Broad sniffs, then tells you looking over someone's shoulder at their texts is rude, and moves the phone up so it's too high for you to read. You roll your eyes, and make an annoyed grunting noise that started at the back of your throat.   
Then there's a widening of eyes from Broad, and an 'Oh', followed by a disapproving head shake.   
"It's something, something about Sleuth."  
  
!!!  
You jump to attention.  
  
"Pickle says Sleuth got stuck in traffic? And he won't make it tonight. I'm ( _HE'S AN ASSHOLE_ _BROAD!!!!!)_ really sorry..."   
  
Broad turns off her phone by taking the battery out.   
  
It wasn't that. It wasn't QUITE that, but it had cars involved. It was something to do with Slick, something,, something concerning? Well, not that concerning. Kind of. No, it was really concerning. And rude!!!! But she WAS NOT going to show that to you now when she just got you to calm down!   
She'd do it LATER. Later.  
Or, Or Sleuth could explain himSELF!!! Oh GPI Broad don't think too much about it you were going to hyperventilate you're fine fine fine fine fi-  
  
  
Broad's breath catches in her throat at the feeling of a kiss.  
She touches her lips gingerly and flushes, and you put your finger against your lip, and whisper 'no homo'.  
  
You know you're being ridiculous, but you don't care at this point. Your date ain't here! Broads upset. And best friends could platonically kiss other best friends, if they were you.   
  
  
  
  
You'll wait to scream at Sleuth tomorrow.   
   
  
  



End file.
